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“Bane?”
“I need you. I need to see you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to send Andy to get you, okay? He’ll bring you to the club.”
“Okay,” she replied.
Fuck, I wondered if she could sense this darkness inside me, the one that lingered and needed to be let out.
“He’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
Hanging up, I dialed Andy.
“Boss?”
“Go and get Wren. Bring her to me at the club.”
“Yes, sir.”
I sat my ass back down, afraid that if I were on my feet, I would sprint to my apartment to collect her myself. I couldn’t leave, though. I couldn’t leave my club unmanned on a Saturday night, but I could bring my Little Bird to me.
28
Wren
As I steppedfrom the car, my nerves got the better of me. Bane had asked that I come to the club. He’d sounded so strained on the phone, struggling with something I had no idea about.
“Would you like me to walk you in, Wren?” Andy asked through the rearview mirror.
“Thank you, but no.” I put my hand on the door handle, hesitating. “I never got to say thank you, Andy.”
His brows shot up. “What for?”
“For saving me from that fire. If you hadn’t risked your life, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
He turned around in his seat to look at me. “I should be the one thanking you.” I cocked my head to the side, unsure what he was getting at. “I’ve worked for Bane for near on a decade now. I’ve never, not once, seen him like this with a woman.”
“Like what?”
“He’s never been this attentive to one woman before.”
I feel a flush of heat creep up my cheeks. “I’m…” I actually had no words. “I…”
“Trust me, Wren, you’re a good influence on him. I hope that continues.”
Shaking my head, I smiled and got out of the car. The bouncer waved me inside straight away, and I stepped into the luxurious Dollhouse. Bane was standing by the bar, his eyes on me. His gaze was so intense that a shiver tracked down my spine. He took a sip from his glass of whisky and stalked toward me, making my entire body light up.
He claimed my mouth in a kiss, sweeping his tongue into my mouth, pressing himself against me. He tasted like wood smoke and vanilla, the aftertaste of leather hitting me. He ran his hand across my hip before dipping it down between my legs.
With a growl, he stepped away from me, leaving me panting. Wrapping his arm around my waist, I noticed a lot of the women staring at me as he led me past the stripper poles to the back of the club. I wondered how many of them had given him a blowjob, the surge of jealousy taking me by surprise. Shoving that feeling away, I took in the half-dozen doors lining the hallway Bane was leading me down. Each with a number on them, and beside the door was a device that looked like you could swipe a card through the reader located to the left.
Bane stopped at room number five and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a credit card-sized piece of plastic and ran it through the reader. The light blinked green, and he opened the door. I stepped in after him, my eyes bulging when I saw what was in there.
“This is the most intense of the BDSM spaces,” he said, his voice dark and hungry. He started to point at something called a Saint Andrews Cross—a huge X-shaped structure with restraints on each of the four points. I walked toward it, fascinated by the concept. Goosebumps spread over my skin in a fevered rush as I imagined myself up there.
